


Reverence

by Queen_Nyah



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015)
Genre: slight gore mention, tbh I’m saberhorn in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 18:27:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18783715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_Nyah/pseuds/Queen_Nyah
Summary: No, Saberhorn didn’t believe in God.But as he lay there, half conscious in the wreckage of the Alchemor gazing at Glowstrike’s outstretched servo he had a damn near religious experience.





	Reverence

Saberhorn wouldn’t call himself a religious mech by any means. He wasn’t consumed by devotion to kneel before some higher power like some of the crank cases back in Kaon, praying their lives away in front of war ruined statues. He never concentrated his attention on theological ruminations or anything close to the sort. If Primus was real he was doing a shitty job, letting his creations tear up an entire planet. There was far too much death on Cybertron (too many energon starved faces twisted into snarls launching themselves out of dark alleyways) he should know, he was a killer himself. A compassionate Primus wouldn’t let a mech covered in the energon of others roam His planet, and Saberhorn wasn’t even one of the worst ones.  
No, Saberhorn didn’t believe in God.   
But as he lay there, half conscious in the wreckage of the Alchemor gazing at Glowstrike’s outstretched servo he had a damn near religious experience.  
Maybe it was the energon leaking rapidly out of his body that had him thinking less than clearly. Probably just that.  
Glowstrikes completely rigid faceplate stared down at him coldly. Energon dripped off of her frame splattering gracelessly on his form beneath her (was it her blood or someone else’s and did it matter?)  
Her helm was tilted just so, catching the light of an unfamiliar sun, and (probably energon loss) she practically seemed to glow. Red and blue and yellow mixed together as his optics lost focus, zooming back after a moment.  
And Primus her own optics were breathtaking. How had he not noticed how lovely the yellow on black looked, glowing now with a cold fire that sent a shiver through his frame and terrified him. The intensity of her gaze remained focused on him and he almost felt as if having those burning yellow eyes boring into him for too long could actually hurt him. He didn’t see Primus in those optics, but he sure as hell saw something close (something dangerous)  
It occurred to Saberhorn that she could very easily kill him now in his weakened state, and probably any time she wanted to. He was good with his swords but he had seen her in action before (when they had worked together briefly on the same assignment, although then he was sure she was holding back)  
He had always thought Glowstrike was attractive but never like this, never this frightening beauty that made his spark tense in his chest and left him staring in rapt stupor at her blood stained form.  
He knew he was probably gaping as the cold harsh line of her mouth tightened and she stretched her servo out more insistently this time.  
“Get up or stay with the dead.” That was all she said her voice empty of feeling and deadly calm.   
He took her hand and got up.  
She stood there in silence as he struggled to his pedes just looking at him with a steady unreadable expression fixed into face.  
He was definitely delirious from lack of energon, and he fell into a shaky bow, pressing lips to the back of her hand almost reverently. He clung then to her hand for longer than he probably should have as he straightened back up. Glowstrike didn’t pull away, didn’t move, didn’t even shift her faceplate out of that collected mask, just stared at him. Her head tilted slightly but the look behind her optics remained the same, furious calm.   
The light kept dancing off her frame and he couldn’t breath. Her servo was deathly cold in his own and this close she smelled faintly of ozone.  
Finally she stepped back (how long had it been) and without sparing him a glance headed across the ruins to a stasis pod.  
She made no motion, didn’t call out to him, she just expected him to follow. He would damn well follow her anywhere at this point and limped behind her.  
“We have work to do.” Glowstrikes tone was devoid of anything but just for a moment she glanced back at him and he saw her smile. A wicked, twisting smirk that scared him more than her quiet gaze. The orange sun illuminated her and that malicious half grin before it was gone and she ripped the cover off of a damaged stasis pod in one smooth motion.  
Saberhorn was sure he was in love.


End file.
